


Underbelly: Valhalla

by Timewaster123456789



Series: Underbelly [5]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Blood Brothers, Courage, Eleventh Division, Gen, Honor, Implied Slash, Loyalty, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Pride, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:55:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29955756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timewaster123456789/pseuds/Timewaster123456789
Summary: Stand-alone oneshots about the eleventh and it's former members.
Relationships: Ayasegawa Yumichika/Madarame Ikkaku
Series: Underbelly [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1006056
Kudos: 1





	1. Forged in Hell

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing. Written veeeeerrryyy late for my packmate Henka-chan's (FFN) birthday. Pre-manga.

Yumi strode onto the field to start his entry exam for eleventh squad all faux-confidence and bravado. He wasn't so much afraid of the test, though it was the most feared at the academy. He _was_ afraid of failing though, his personal humiliation aside and that would be bad enough, he didn't want to be separated from Ikkaku. His friend had passed the previous day and if they wound up in different squads it would take him decades to gain that level of respect and acceptance with anyone else. If he ever did.

At least in that scenario they could still be together though he knew they would drift apart in time. If he got in a bind and his Zanpakuto decided to release fully, Ikkaku would know his secret, what a pussy he was. If Ikakku just never talked to him again, it would be the best case scenario. He expected outright hatred though, years of relentless torment for being a poser.

Sweat gathered on his brow and back as he waited for his turned. The sun beat down on him, a mocking, all-seeing eye burning through his tough facade to reveal a soft kido-based core. And yet he could give Ikkaku a run for his money when they sparred.

"Yer up bitch," Zaraki yelled from his spot at the starting line. Yumi trotted up to the line unimpressed. The huge captain sounded more bored than aggressive, besides the worst he could do was kill him, that would be preferable to failure and disgrace.

At the captain's sharp command Yumi sprinted into the special stone pen and felt his hair rise as a twelfth division member closed the kido gate behind him to protect the rest of Seireitei. Yumi dove into the swarms of hollows 'borrowed' from twelfth division, his shikai flashed reflecting the full spectrum of color and he smiled admiring the beauty of it as he danced in the midst of the hollows.

He could feel his heartbeat clashing with Kujaku's energy but ignored it. When the last hollow fell it disappeared in a pretty swirl of spirit particles, almost making up for the dissonance he felt with his loathsome blade.

The gate on the far side of the arena lowered. He raced through onto the large grassland and began leaping through the obstacle course. He barely registered his own actions, mind fixated only on his current objective, his muscles performed their tasks with the instinct of long training.

Five minute fight with a squadmate on a twenty-foot high platform. Done. Run through trenches. Done Swim across the pool… a spray of water hit him in the face and broke his trance. Pain lanced into his nose fading to numbness as the water was swiftly followed by a punch. He felt a shock in his arm as it block another swing almost of its own accord.

He struggled to swim as he tussled with his opponent, who he found to be an eleventh squadmember several inches taller than himself. It occurred to him slowly—concussion?— that his opponent was standing and he quickly did the same and found the water to be barely higher than his waist.

Crossing was not an option even if he could stand to let the guy walk away after punching him, and he couldn't, it would be far too easy for the man to drown him if he simply focused on bulling across. Must defeat him, he thought falling back into his battle trance. His opponent back away a few steps as Yumi attacked, apparently surprised by his ferocity. Yumi's lips spread in a cold smile as he fought on.

The tide quickly turned though he never lost his smile. The advantage he'd gained by being underestimated was gone and his opponent was more experienced, bigger and had a fully released shikai. He trapped his opponent's sword between Kujaku's blades, grunting as he tried to twist it. A muscular hand slammed into the back of his head and forced him under the water.

He struggled, lungs screaming for air as liquid filled them. He fought his way to the surface only to be shoved back under. His opponent, apparently having recovered his unseemly arrogance, pulled Yumi to the surface again.

"Ain't as good as ya'…" he began. Yumi punched him in the throat and slashed his chest open with Kujaku, letting him fall back into the water for the fourth to fish out. He swam the rest of the way across and dragged himself up the steep, slippery mud bank, struggling not to fall back into the water. He gained the top, forced himself to his feet on shaking legs and began to lope on, chest heaving.

 _Can't give in, have to be good enough for Ikkaku, for the eleventh,_ he thought desperately as he came upon another arena, this one marked by a mere stonewall. He entered to find the ground covered in patches of coals, gouts of fire shot intermittently from fissures in the stony ground. He took this in as a background awareness, the majority of his fading concentration focused on the Shinigami in front of him.

He ducked, swung his sword and ducked again, feinting left as his opponent's saber-like blade bit into the ground. Yumi dove forward, his own blade flashing in the firelight, ignoring the heat as a gout of fire singed his lovely hair. His opponent dodged back and too exhausted to correct for the move Yumi felt his sword strike the earth.

He felt the intrusion as his opponent's blade sliced a long cut between two of his ribs and its owner turned and threw himself into a flurry of follow-up attacks with hitherto unseen speed. He twisted under the onslaught and finally registered the pain from his cut as it burned with the motion. He did his best to dodge, block but every move was a hair slow, his muscles jelly and mind fogged. Blood flowed freely from a dozen, a score, two score wounds. He refused to give in though and swung Kujaku futilely, barely scratching his opponent who responded by driving a stomp kick down on his foot. He heard the bones snap and gasped but kept struggling.

He couldn't give in, even knowing that he'd lose he had to keep trying, he couldn't just lay down and accept defeat. Ikkaku would have been disgusted.

X

Yumi bolted awake and found his arms pinned down, a scream tore itself from him. A hand landed on his arm.

"Easy man you'll 'ave Unohana-taichou on my ass," Ikkaku's familiar voice said. Yumi calmed instantly and he bit off the sound. He looked around and found that he was in a bed in the fourth division. He was strapped down which was highly disturbing, but there were no enemies in the room, just Ikkaku and his companion's legendary captain.

"I'm sorry," he said to Ikkaku. He met the warrior's eyes because it was important that Ikkaku knew the truth of his words, though he had to bite his lip to keep it from quivering. He refused to break down in front of the captain but it was taking everything he had not to.

Ikkaku released his painful grip and moved his left hand to Yumi's shoulder, his right was in a sling.

"It's kay man." he was smiling. Yumi forced one in return. "No really man same thing happened to me it's fine," Ikkaku continued grinning with genuine happiness.

"If ya' could beat an actual squad member it wouldn' be much o' a squad would it?" the captain asked.

"I…I was supposed to fail?"

"Ya' was s'pposed to fight even when ya' knew it was hopeless," the captain said.

"You're in," Ikkaku was still grinning ear to ear.

Yumi looked away as tears filled his eyes. The captain snorted and he could hear the man's heavy stride as he left them alone.

Ikkaku lost his restraint and hugged him, he grunted in pain. "I'm in," Yumi whispered in choked voice, disbelieving, allowing relieved tears to stream down his face

"Yeah man," Ikkaku said he didn't thank Yumi and didn't have to.

X

Zaraki smirked as listened to the twelfth division dossier again to make sure he hadn't misunderstood. The kid had a kido-type but hadn't even tried to use its ability. Obviously he liked a challenge, that suited the squad just fine, his loyalty was just as obvious and just as desirable. Yeah he would make a helluv an addition. Shit he'd gotten farther than his friend.


	2. Solid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Context piece based on Chapter 274 and the corresponding anime episode 163. All dialogue is taken from that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing. Please check out my pack.

There were a few debts that Renji had, which he had no way to ever repay except with fealty. Rukia for starters, had given him something to hold onto in the Rukongai, not to mention a way out of that hell hole. Kira and to a lesser extent Momo had given him companionship in the academy, after Byakuya had taken Rukia from him. Ikkaku had trained him and Ichigo the most important of all, had saved Rukia. Hell he even owed Byakuya—self-important bastard —for throwing him that damn scarf. A mark of respect when he'd felt lower than the lowest dog, which was why it hadn't been sold yet. Despite the fact that, even accounting for the bloodstains, he could have lived comfortably for three lifetimes on the profit.

"Abarai…!" Renji heard Uryuu say, as he blocked the fraccion's fist. It cut through his terror. Yeah, he was thoroughly ashamed of it, but in that moment he was utterly terrified. Not of combat, not of death but of the fact that he had _no_ idea what to do. He felt utterly helpless. It was one thing to be uncertain that you could win. It was an entirely different thing to have no effective form of attack, being able to do literally _nothing_ to save yourself… or your friend. Zaraki-taichou would have killed him in disgust if he was there. No matter how hard he tried to push it aside he felt panic rising, his sword slipping in his shaking, sweat-slicked grip. His breathing was growing more ragged, almost hyperventilating and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about that either. _Focus on what you're protecting,_ the thought from his academy days bit through the panicked haze.

"Don't just stand there! You're not beaten yet, are you?" he yelled. He tried for bravado and was disgusted to hear, the obvious edge of panic. "Thinking your way out of tough situations is your specialty isn't it?" he said, intending to give Uryuu confidence. Unfortunately his mouth kept talking. "Can't you come up with something…that we can use to beat this guy?" he said, despite himself. He knew he was begging, _please, anything, I've got nothing._ He hated it.

"Don't be ridiculous. I already have," Uryuu said. It was a statement of fact, calm and so supremely confident he could have given Byakuya lessons in arrogance. As simple as that, Renji had something to put his back up against. He cast a look at Uryuu that he hoped didn't look as pathetic as he felt and barked a laugh. His trembling steadied, his breathing slowed. With a surge of newfound strength he threw the fraccion back.

"I'm counting on you, man! Don't screw this up alright?" he said, trying to get his equilibrium back.

"No need to worry. Just as long as you don't screw me up that is!" Uryuu replied and Renji was back in his element, they _had_ this. With any luck this was one debt he could repay in kind.


	3. Reluctant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is Yachiru's POV of the Maki situation using scenes from the anime episodes: 74/5, 94, 97/8.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing. I know bount isn't canon but the Maki-chan storyline was excellent. Please check out my pack listed in my profile.

Yachiru was downright ecstatic when she found out Maki-chan was alive, having genuinely expected to never see him alive again. She knew that despite his claims to the contrary—He'd let the kid make his own choice—Zaraki felt like he'd hurt Maki-chan. Regardless of what people might say he took no pleasure in harming people he wasn't actually fighting with. Indeed he seemed to find it quite distasteful as far as she could tell.

She remembered when Maki-chan left. Ken-chan had told Maki-chan to do as he liked, exasperated. He wouldn't use his authority to force someone who was unwilling to follow him, he'd told Yachiru that, said it was dangerous. Only Yachiru had seen the disappointment in his eyes as he watched Maki-chan walk out, the kid having long since made his decision.

Now the knowledge that he'd probably killed Maki-chan without any reason and without the actual test of combat obviously weighed on him, even if he never told her as much. His regret for the whole situation was etched in his frown. 'I don't know,' he'd said. _Sure you don't,_ would have been her reply,had they not been in front of subordinates.

x

When they'd spoke alone after Mayuri had announced the break-in of his databanks, she'd been utterly thrown by Ken-chan's unease. While he might not have been the soulless demon that people made him out to be, he also _never_ got nervous. What was there to make someone, who feared neither pain, death nor the loss of loved ones, nervous? She tried to brush it off as worry for Maki-chan but he denied that and this time the denial seemed sincere. It sent a shiver down her spine as she wracked her brain for what he might have sensed that was so off.

Ken-chan seemed to have no interest in the bounts and sat at his desk, apparently bored, while she watched the search through the window. He claimed it was because they were too weak and maybe that was true, though by all accounts they were the strongest enemies Seireitei had seen since the ryoka. She explained her relief that there was still a chance for Ken-chan to get his one-on-one fight with Maki-chan. He said he didn't care which struck her as strange, having a fun fight was the _only_ thing he cared about. There was a softness in his expression that quietly echoed her own relief. She nuzzled his shoulder when she understood why.

"Then it doesn't matter either way," she said. That was as close as he'd ever get to saying that he was trying to avoid the fight.

x

When the tenth division finally found the intruders, she was genuinely excited for her chance to see Maki-chan. However she put even more exuberance than normal—yes that was possible— into it when she heard the bitterness and resignation dripping from Ken-chan's words.

They found Maki-chan fairing quite well against Ichigo and the others when Ken-chan stepped in to break it up. She was sad to see absolute hatred and shame in Maki-chan's eyes as he strove to keep Ken-chan's sword from him. Then she was distracted by catching up with Jiggles and Ken-chan' bantering with Ichigo.

After they'd caught up with their friends, he offered Maki-chan _the_ choice: if he truly believed in his ideals Ken-chan would stay out of the fight, give him as clean a fight as a one-on-six could be. Hitsuyaga freaked-out, he apparently didn't see the answer clear in Maki-chan's eyes. There was an undercurrent almost pleading in Ken-chan's voice, though it was likely that only she heard. _Make the right choice, don't dishonor yourself, don't make me kill you like a dog._ She realized for the first time exactly how much he didn't want to do this, if he was willing to let the others take the first crack.

Then Maki-chan verbalized his choice and in the space between seconds Ken-chan was himself again, all swagger with a battle-grin that wouldn't have looked forced to anyone but her. She yelped happily but, he snapped at her to stopped distracting him, so she leaped away. She chased the others away because it was obvious Maki-chan would want it that way, even if Ken-chan had privately hoped otherwise.

As she watched the fight she found irony in the fact that Ken-chan was making a point that enjoyment was his reason for fighting, in the one fight he'd had in her memory that was the _least_ about it. Even when Maki-chan became overwhelmed with emotion, swinging wildly Ken-chan made no counterattack, he only listened. At least until he was too fed-up to continue. He applied a sword slash presumably to dissuade Maki-chan from continuing the fight, now that the others were free to complete their mission.

It wasn't uncommon for Ken-chan to lecture and instruct as he fought, in order to get more fight out of an opponent. When he spoke to Maki-chan though, it was different. He wasn't trying to drive him on but, to make him reconsider, to back him down. She'd never heard Ken-chan do that before, didn't even realize that he knew how. She felt profound sadness when she saw what he was doing; it was painfully obvious that Maki-chan no longer knew why he fought. The entire thing was pointless and she felt a measure of Ken-chan's apathy, as she realized that Maki-chan would force it to its inevitable conclusion anyway. She finally understood why Ken-chan had wanted to avoid this fight. She even felt a little bad, —though she'd thought that emotion beyond her—for facilitating it.

It physically hurt her to see the sadness in Ken-chan's eyes, as Maki-chan prepared for his final strike. He had his answer, knew that he'd failed. Then he was grinning, there was no room for thought anymore and nothing to do except what he excelled at. They clashed. He cut Maki-chan down even though she knew, it was about the last thing in Soul Society that he wanted to do.

As always she went to greet him afterwards.

"I went all out," he said, with a small smile. There was no pleasure in his voice or contentment in his eyes like there should have been, only a veneer of victory so thin as to be parodic. She supposed it was for her benefit but, cast her eyes down unable to go along with the charade. She realized, for the first time she could remember that watching Ken-chan fight hadn't made her happy. As she rode away on his shoulder she saw that despite his opponent's power, Ken-chan hadn't enjoyed himself at all.


	4. Mr. Shorty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is a retelling of the Marty Robbins song: Mr. Shorty www.youtube/watch?v=6x6o_tBU8DU and I highly recommend listening to it after or during the reading of this piece. Sword fighter ballads part 1/4.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing. This is a Christmas gift for HitsugayaKuchiki.

Kenpachi sat at the bar drinking in silence. Six months into his captaincy, he still didn't feel comfortable with the prissy nobles that made up ninety percent of the officers in the Gotei 13. So he'd made his way to some no-name-bar in the 75th North, sat shooting straight sake and waited to see if some sort of a brawl would develop or he'd have to start one.

A white-haired kid walked in and ordered sake as well. The process of checking ID had thoroughly confused him when he heard some graduates crowing about their new status granting them exemption. If anywhere in the Rukongai had the policy, they were lower districts than he'd ever been in.

"Do you happen to know how I can get into Seireitei sir?" the kid asked slowly and precisely.

"Do I look..." he began, before remembering that he actually did and wondering for the fiftieth time what had possessed him to leave the Rukongai in the first place. Far from the greater challenges he'd been looking for, all he'd found were rules, leashes and a fuck ton of paperwork. "Eh." he grunted assent "What ya' want with that shithole."

The boy's eyes widened but he replied politely, "I want to join the academy. Ah was told I have the requisite ability," he explained, a bit of accent slipping into his slow precise words. Zaraki looked the kid over; he was dressed in decent clothes so he was from one of the lower districts yet he didn't seem nervous much less afraid. Bold kid.

"Yer freedom," he said with a shrug. The way another would say 'your funeral". "Keep walkin' tha' way. Shiny towers, flooded wi' rich bitches can' miss it," he gestured vaguely toward Seireitei. The boy raised an eyebrow and took half his drink with only a slight wince.

"I thought maybe you could lead me there or draw a map or something. I've been chasing 'ova thar's for three days," he said finishing his drink with another wince.

"Impatient kid like ya's gonna hate the place," he warned with a rough laugh.

"Ain't no kid," he snarled, teal eyes flashing.

Zaraki laughed again, "Meant no offense. Hell got a pup out there waiting fer' me," a hint of pride slipped into his voice. "Maybe half your size. Could probably kick the ass o' half the guys in 'ere." Glares from around the bar met this challenge, but he looked around with a smile and the gazes all lowered. Disappointed he looked back at the kid. The anger was gone and there was only a sort of lost look in the kid's eyes. He knew that look, lower districts or not the kid'd been through some shit.

A man walked in, almost as tall as Zaraki himself and rough looking with a bloody gash running down the side of his face.

"The usual and make it quick!" the man snapped. "What're you looking at pipsqueak?" the kid Zaraki had been talking to leaped from his stool.

"Who you callin' pipsqueak, oaf?" he snarled.

"You, half pint. What're ya' even doing in here?"

"Drinking and you can call me Toshiro," the boy said coldly. Zaraki watched idly as the man rose.

"I'll call you whatever the fuck I want ya' little runt. Now bow an' say 'please spare me Ryuu-sama' an'…I might." The man took a threatening step forward. Zaraki stood as rage flooded through him, about to see to it that this piece of shit fought someone his own size. Actually, that'd be almost as unfair a fight, but this asshole had it coming.

"All I'm asking is some basic courtesy Ryuu-san," the boy replied.

"Yer either able to demand respect or you don't 'serve it," the man snarled and took a swing, Zaraki launched himself at the man and the moment froze. Not just the moment Zaraki stared at the man, Ryuu was incased in ice, terror etched on his face. Zaraki raised his own arm and saw frost on it.

"Guess you don't deserve it then," Toshiro said quietly as he walked out of the bar with an apology to the bartender. Zaraki returned to his stool and ordered a double. Seireitei might not be so boring after all.


End file.
